April 28, 2014

No Good Deed. . .

The valet guy charged with protecting the lot where my twenty-year-old Volvo lives yells at the man on the sidewalk with the dark glasses and the white cane, who yells back.
“C’mon, man. Which way is it?”
The valet points north.
“Dat way. I tole joo. Joo yus’ go straigh’.”
The blind man shakes his cane.
“I go straight, I’m gonna walk right into you, brother. Now where is it?”
The valet leans forward and signals as if directing a 747 to its berth. “Joo go to the nex stree’. Is righ’ there.”
“Spose to be the last street I crossed. Tha’s why I’m aksing.”
“Excuse me,” I say. “Can I give you a lift?”
They slowly turn to me. One stares. The other sends invisible rays through his Ray Charles shades.
“Joo car was no par’ between the line las’ nigh’,” says the valet.
The blind man turned to him. “She tryin’ to rob me? See a helpless man in a good suit, take advantage? Is that the kind of people you got here?”
They both silently watched me trudge to my car – well, one watched, the other followed me with his black, black lenses.
WTF was that?

Tags: Buttinskies beware; lose/lose/lose; forget that Girl Scout crapola; L.A. is supposed to be an easy town; I articulate, I see, I am in the minority